Secrets & Lies
by LCFC
Summary: What if Jess hadn't been as perfect as she seemed. Spoilers for most episodes of Series 2


**Secrets & Lies**

_I don't own Sam or Dean – gah!_

Sam still enjoys checking his e-mails. He doesn't quite know why and it has been years since he last heard from any of his college friends. Nowadays most of his e-mails ask him if he would like to enlarge his penis or get a hardship loan, but there is still that sense of excitement, still that sense of '_I wonder_'.

Today, though, he clicks on the little box that says 'You have mail' and his breath catches in his throat. Seven words, seven fucking words, and they shatter what is left of Sam's innocence, what is left of Sam's sanity.

'_She was unfaithful and you never knew'._

He deletes it. Reasoning with himself that it was sent to the wrong person, meant for some other poor schmuck. He closes the laptop with a hiss and wishes he had something to drink.

When Dean comes back he makes sure that his brother doesn't suspect that he's been crying; he's done too much of that lately and he wants to stay sane.

He stays off the laptop for a few days – making some remarks about books being better and Dean eyes him but says nothing.

When his phone beeps he takes it out and checks the text, his heart sinking as he reads, his stomach roiling as he follows the words with his eyes; eyes blurred with tears

'_Jess wasn't perfect after all'_

He can't turn his phone off and he can't tell Dean. Dean thinks he is still brooding about Madison and perhaps he is. Perhaps these messages aren't really there – maybe they are coming from his sub-conscious – he doesn't know. All he knows is that he can't sleep or eat and his mind seems fixated on death.

He wakes after a particularly erotic and unwelcome dream, his hardness pressing against the sheets. It is cloyingly dark and he shifts, uncomfortably, his hand drifting downwards. He hears another movement in the dark and he freezes as he sees something flit across his field of vision. For a moment he thinks he sees a white dress and a slash of red but then he realises it is only his brother, stumbling for the bathroom

"Don't you ever sleep Sam?" Dean states gruffly

"Not now" he replies.

Dean is worried; although he won't say and he certainly doesn't press the issue. Dean has hidden the gun he used to kill Madison; he has burnt the tee-shirt and jeans he was wearing at the time and he has covered their tracks the best he can. Sam tries to act normally, watches TV listens to Dean's instructions, washes, and takes a leak. All these things try to anchor him in normality and he almost forgets…

His phone rings shrilly and he presses it to his ear. Dean is driving and he turns down the music trying to look disinterested. Sam hears breathing and a soft voice suddenly says

"She slept with other men Sam – how does that make you feel?"

Before he can answer – the voice cuts off – and he is left with the dial-tone and Dean's questioning glances. He presses his hot forehead to the Impala's window and bites his lip hard – blood flooding his mouth with salty fluid. Two years – Jess has been dead for two years – and, suddenly, he hates her.

Dean can tell there is something off with Sam. Hell, you don't live in close quarters with someone for over two years and not notice. Sam might have left Dean once, but they are together now and Dean is an expert in 'little brother angst'.

Initially he thinks that Sammy is brooding over Madison and the circumstances of her death. He knows that Sam slept with the girl – hell he was gone for half the day – and, although at the time he was pleased and proud that his little brother had taken that step towards healing and intimacy – he now wishes that he'd never encouraged it. He might have known that like most things the Winchester's touched, it could only end in tears.

But now he hears Sam at night; tossing and turning; his mouth forming words; nightmares that Dean thought were gone, returning with vengeance. He hears Sam moan a name and it isn't Maddie's. He's heard that name too much in the past to let it go

"Jess" his brother is obviously distraught "Jess"

Dean waits till Sam is in the shower. He knows that his brother will be gone for a while and, although he feels lower than a snake's hip, he knows he has to do this.

He gets Sam's cell and checks the calls and messages; there are several and they all say similar things.

'_I know you think she was perfect – but she wasn't'_

'_You weren't enough for her'_

'_I know you slept with that girl – how long has it been Sam – staying faithful to a dead girl who was nothing more than a whore'_

'_She even had fun those few days you were away with your brother. Making cookies wasn't all she was doing'_

Dean snaps the cell phone shut and puts it back in Sam's duffle. He knows that, whatever it is they are dealing with, there is nothing supernatural about it; no yellow-eyed demon connection, no ghosts, no monsters. This is something else, something far more sinister and he wonders how he might broach the subject with Sam.

His brother isn't eating and Dean can see the shadows under his eyes. Sam has had enough; that much is clear. Sam has been through too much recently – dealing with his father's secret; being hunted down; possession; the death of his lover at his own hands. Sam was breaking and it wasn't going to take much longer before he snapped completely and Dean could not, would not let that happen.

"We need to talk" Dean had taken them to a bar. It was quiet, intimate, the sort of place you might take a lover. They had found a booth and sat, just the two of them, nursing beers. Sam looked stricken and Dean leant forward and put a rough hand over Sam's large one, his fingers closing gently on Sam's "Don't we?"

"You read my messages" Sam sounds resigned

"Yeah Sam – I'm sorry – but I did" Dean swallowed a slug of beer "How long man?"

"About a month" Sam looked anywhere but at Dean "I've had e-mails too" he stared down at the greasy bar "I…I don't know what to do"

Dean had never heard Sam sound so vulnerable, so openly distressed and he squeezed his brother's hand tighter, not caring about 'chick flick' moments "You don't believe them – do you Sam?"

"I don't know what to believe any more Dean" Sam's voice was cracked and Dean could see the tears start "Why – why now?"

"Do you have a clue who might be doing this Sam?" Dean's voice was firm – he had to keep holding on – his brother was on the brink and if he let go then Sam would fall "Somebody back at Stanford – someone who had it in for you – for Jess"

"I don't know" Sam sighed, fingering the label on the beer bottle, "It's been so long Dean – most of the people we knew – mutual friends – they would have graduated by now" he bit his lip "The messages – they are coming in all the time now – and the phone calls – I had to turn off my cell Dean"

"We have to go back there" Dean's voice was firm

"I can't do that" Sam's face is so pale that Dean can virtually see his cheek bones "I can't go back there"

"Then I'll do it" Dean's voice was firm "You look like shit Sam – I'm sure a stay at Bobby's will do you the power of good" he saw his brother's mouth open and close and he grinned "And keep the laptop and your cell turned off – ok?" he squeezed Sam's hand again "Whoever is doing this is going to live to regret it Sam – believe me"

Sam does as Dean says; he turns up at Bobby's and the older man takes him in without a murmur. He leaves his laptop in the trunk of the Impala and his cell in the dash. He watches as his brother drives away and he feels weak and foolish; he is having both nightmares and erotic dreams about Jess and Madison and in his mind they blend into one; two women who had died because of him.

At night he bites his lip so Bobby doesn't hear him cry.

Dean isn't the research geek but he knows how to get the job done and it doesn't take him long to track down a few of Sam's old friends. They seem nice and ask about his brother in a distantly fond way. Most of them remember Jess and how she died, but none of them seem the sort to send the type of messages that Sam has been receiving. Dean asks a few questions and takes a few numbers and then hits the college bar.

The guy behind the bar isn't what Dean expected. He is small and slight; geeky looking with glasses and the beginnings of a beard. Dean buys a beer and starts casually enough – asking how long he's studied here; whether he knew Sam & Jess. The guy answers gruffly and never once looks Dean in the eye. Dean is as sure as he can be and when he leaves the bar, he waits by the Impala till kicking out time; ready to roll.

He is slight enough to slam against the wall and Dean hears the breath hiss out of him. He is angry; thoughts of Sam raging through his brain; he wants to punch – hell he wants to kill – but he reins himself in – his hands clutching firmly at the guy's shirt – his face as close as he can get it

"Why?" he hisses "Why are you doing this to my brother?"

And then it all comes out – like a torrent – a flood.

"I loved her too" the guy is trembling "I was going out with her first – she told me she loved me – told me that it didn't have to be the end of it" tears start in his eyes and Dean is reminded, again, of Sam "She liked it – seeing Sam – seeing me – she played us both – but I loved her"

"Why these messages? Why now?"

"I was in the City – I saw him – with that other girl – the one who was shot" he struggles and Dean lets him loose. He slumps down the wall and stares up at Dean, pathetic and small "I didn't think it was fair – he should be having fun – when Jess was dead – it was his fault – I begged her to leave him – but she was enjoying it too much" he coughed "It was all a game to her – I don't think she realised how much she was going to lose"

"Are you telling me she was unfaithful to my brother the whole time?" Dean can barely speak, barely think. Sam loved Jess – still loved Jess – she was his normal, his perfect, the woman he was going to marry. "Look I don't know you and I don't care what you do" he pulled the man to his feet "But if Sam gets one more message I'll make damn sure that you never see another dawn – do you understand me?"

"Yeah – I'm sorry – dude" he is slipping away now – ready to run "No more messages ok…it was foolish of me in the first place – but I hated him because she was dead – I just wanted him to suffer as much as I have"

Dean snorted – a bitter harsh snort of laughter "Believe me – he's suffered – more than you will ever know"

Sam is waiting for him on Bobby's front porch. He looks tired still and his eyes are anxious, pained. Dean stares at him; knowing that it is now or never; he's lied to Sam before – kept secrets – secrets that have done more damage than good – but now – this was different – Sam had survived so much but Dean did not think that Sam would survive this.

"Did you find anything?" Sam's voice is harsh and cracked and his hand clings to Dean's arm like a drowning man to a life raft "Anything at all?"

"Yeah – some geek guy – an ex boyfriend" Dean felt his heart thumping in his tight chest "He…he saw us when we were investigating the werewolves – saw you with Madison – thought he'd punish you" Dean swallowed "He won't be doing it again"

"Did you…you didn't kill him did you Dean?"

"Fuck no" Dean snorted "But I put the fear of god into him"

"And Jess" the words were faint, hopeful, and Sam was hanging over a precipice

"She loved you Sam" Dean gripped his brother's hand "She wouldn't be unfaithful to you. She was going to be your wife" he spoke gently – he couldn't allow Sam to fall – not now.

The relief was obvious and Sam leant against his brother with a sigh. "Man" he smiled, really smiled and Dean felt his heart contract "I could sleep for a week Dean – really sleep"

"You do that little brother" Dean knew he still had a job to do – a long road to travel "I'll be watching over you – like always"

"Thanks Dean" Sam yawned

"Don't mention it Sammy" Dean gripped his brother's hand one last time and then let go. Sammy wasn't ever gonna fall – not on his watch.

FIN


End file.
